the look of freedom

what does freedom look like?
today, right now, it looks like disappointment and pain.
a sad resignation, waving goodbye to the euphoria.

'just like everything those kinda dreams just came and went' (John Mellencamp)

as the crests decrease and the waves are further from my shore.
resignation that it's time to let the fantasies die (although they won't go quietly)
Hanging on and believing for a miracle of always increasing sexual stimulus, to finally satisfy, is silly.
The pain of letting go is smarter and a better road than the pain of carrying on like I had been.

Feelings elude

I didn't know how to do emotion.  Never learned by watching parents, not as a baby, a kid or teen.

If anything I was shown some emotions are bad.  I know I'm uncomfortable with someone being angry at me, and I can see it's not right.

So, how are you feeling?  I haven't a clue.  When angry, I want to express it and let it out.  But I can't.  Maybe I want allowed to as a kid and now I can't allow myself to.  Really don't know how.

Recovery

For the last month or so I've found a new world.  It's not really new, the 12 step fellowships have been around forever and I've know about them.  I have relatives who are deeply involved and I know it helps them.



But something happened, a moment of clarity, and I realised 'the drugs aren't working anymore'.  I enjoy our sexual relationship, then the inevitable challenges of life mean I don't get sex, which collides with me being angry/tired/sad/bored.  I loose myself in some porn and masturbate.  But, it doesn't work it just makes it worse!  The treatment is worse than the illness.  I am more angry and more distant and more desperate (and full of guilt) after maturbating than before.

So, I saw this pattern.  I saw that I need something else.  So I started the Steps.  And although I haven't even found a sponsor yet, there's something new that's happening that I've not experienced ever before.  I had some clarity before, but I have a new hope and fairly consistently helpful moments of perspective that are outside me trapped selfish tunnel-vision.

Check out SAA, (Sex Addicts Anonymous) it's made up of a bunch of folks who are there because the found it helpful.  Very powerful to be able to be helped by those who have experienced the same brokenness.  Talk about finding someone who understands!  The fellowship creates a culture where everyone focuses on the program, which means mutual support and unconditional acceptance, practice with boundaries and individual responsibilities, dependence on God, volunteer help offered (a chance to be helped by others with similar experiences), volunteer help requested (a chance to help others with similar struggles), face to face fellowship with hope for you and the power of storytelling.

Feminine Sexuality

Her sexuality is a mysterious flower, opening in season, responding to patient loving care.

Porn strips her down to an empty fantasy, no pursuit, no wooing or romancing.

You'd like her to be ready at the drop of your pants, but real life doesn't work that way.
You'd like the safety of her always saying 'yes', no risk of being rejected, even avoiding the work.
But if you take away what you don't want, you miss out on the good with the bad.

You aren't in control, you don't get to choose.  You are not God and you didn't make woman.  You may be used to choosing through porn, but getting used to endless options spoils you for reality and what they're selling is bogus.  It promises satisfaction while you enjoy the endorphins, but you are left with guilt and the feeling of a dumb hick who's been swindled by a big city slick snake-oil salesman.

Fantasy, how it looks in reality

I remember a few specific situations that really bothered me. They threatened to open a crack in my fantasy. They were a spark of light trying to burn their way through my outdated unwieldy armor.

 1) affectionate young couple at another table in a restaurant. This made me mad.  I didn't understand why, but it symbolised things that I was loosing and how fantasy operated on autopilot for me.  I was jealous and it reminded me that our honeymoon was over, having children had taken us out of the stage of dreamily staring into each others' eyes. Instead of holding hands and looking at each other, we were now handing each other wet-wipes and looking out for our young children. This image of a young couple being lost in each other reminded me of wanting to escape from my 'real life' and it was angering that porn didn't deliver on it's promises of the fantasy world free of pain.

2) grade school plays, primary school assemblies: seeing the other parents sitting on these little children's chairs, the distracted dads, the mumsy mums. They weren't sexy, they weren't looking at each other. It was all about the children. This bothered me because my selfish childishness wanted to be the centre of attention. I came home from work, and was alone with her, but instead of sex, she put on her perfume to go to the most unglamorous of plades.  We spent the time sitting on those little-kids chairs, I was horny but saw an auditorium full of other frustrated dads and sex disinterested mums.

Poetical

I'm grieving loss of my youth as my virility and stamina wanes. 

Seeing it all grey, and less than half empty.

No youthful passionate risky sex, not at ten thousand feet, nor the soft grassy ground.

No long-haired head casually tossed to one side innocently. 

No short skirt view offered for my  guiltless pleasure.

Man Up

So, I did wonder once if my self-worth was wrapped up in my sexuality, and I remember thinking in the back of my head somewhere distant and unformed the thoughts, 'what would it do to me if I can't 'perform'?   Well twice in one weekend it happened.  First I'm angry that I can't "get my nut" selfishly.  Then I feel guilty that I'm being so selfish and feel bad that she's not enjoying it anyway, but putting up with me and my needs--and I'm wasting her time.  That awareness that she's not into it is part of what put me off and stopped me being able to climax.  Plus I'm missing the very physical benefits that come from her being turned on and engaged and enjoying it.



So, I need to think more before revving up my engine if she's not into it.  I need to say, 'no' or not expect her to say yes if it's not really gonna work.  Sigh.   It always comes back to decreasing our sex, decreasing my expectations, doing it less often, hearing 'no' more and not expecting it as much.  Sigh...

So if she's not really up for it, I shouldn't expect to "get whatever I can" as it's oddly reminiscent of her being a masturbation toy.  Yikes.  That's not loving.

The fact that she's gained weight does come to mind, but I really know that's not what this is about.  Even if it's related, it doesn't matter as I can't say anything to her that's going to be constructive.  I need to be the man.  That's kinda the answer in all this:  be a man, feel the pain, do the right thing through it.

gone gone gone

I've let go of another fantasy.  i write this on a flight home from Ireland.  Just returned to my seat from the loo (toilet).  As i was in there, I accepted that it is too small, to smelly, and not private enough for passion.

So, I let go of ever joining the Mile High Club.  It was easy.  I didn't feel angry nor do I expect to miss it.

The whys are plenty, but they aren't really the reason I let go.  Probably a gift from Him that I'm able.

what am I letting go of?  The hope for excitement and an encounter that symbolizes that I am Really really desired.  enough passion to risk embarrassment, social disapproval.  So much passion and desire that usurps common sense.

For every thing I let go of, there is more freedom to enjoy than loss.  It takes some bravery and trust to see it that way.

It's so much more than sex

I'm angry because she didn't want to do it... Again.... But so much more is bothering me.  People with problems like ours aren't very good at facing bad stuff.  It's the crux of our problem--choosing diversions instead of grappling with what needs attention.  Addiction is our diversion.

So, I can feel angry, sad, distant and morbid without really facing what it's about, and miss out on moving forward.

As she is less interested in sex, it's bothering me that this looks to only get worse.  As we both age, it's not gonna get better. As we both put on weight, my mental images of what's a turn-on, built up over decades of consuming porn gets further and further away from each other.

She's going through 'the change' which often is associated with loss of interest in sex.  I've not been able to face that yet.  But it's time.  I'm not going to 'trade her in'.  But I do fantasize, or at least imagine, someone thinner, someone toned, someone younger intertwined with me.  Sigh.....  Who can I talk to about this?  Who in my faith tradition will listen and understand?  Who has time for my brokenness?  I can imagine a conversation in my head, even put a face on the listener of my choosing.  But I can make it a prayer and know I'm inviting Him to listen and speak and help. It's not easy, prayer never has been.

Me:  The only thing making me angrier than her rolls of fat, her big middle, her burping and snoring.... Is, my even larger frame and scarily fatness.  Yes, I fart, but isn't she supposed to be feminine?

Him (counselor mode):  Porn has a strong pull to you when you compare her changing body to what you are missing

Me: Yes, I am sad and it hurts to think I will have less and less to enjoy with my eyes that turns me on.  I don't know if I should be more attentive to her (try harder) or respect her and love her by just backing off.  It's hard to do that without emotionally disconnecting and making it passive aggressive. I want to loose weight, but I'm in a cycle of sadness or distractions of life which stops me changing my eating from one meal to the next. 

I guess the right thing is to pursue is real intimacy, treasuring her and valuing her on the inside, focusing there instead of the outside.

tripwire

so many things set off my angry thought, "she doesn't want me (want in context of sex).  Her wanting to spend time with whole family during holidays rsther than come to be with me.  Her wanting to go to sleep instead of making love, or even agreeing to go to sleep when I suggest we delay making love. 

It's like a surly child saying, "if you loved me you would do what I want!".  "Since you won't give me what I want, then you must not love me."

silliness.

But the lie is rigged there ready to explode, sending my anger through the roof.  Please, Holy Spirit, be the expert in my ear telling me which wire to cut so I can disarm this bomb once and for all.

Reality seems to be that I stumble along, making the same mistakes, eventually noticing little signs of erosion of the mountain and improvement of the disease, like how a kid grows--imperceptably, only when you are not looking. 

Itch & Scratchy on a bicycle

The cycle of lust, temptation, masturbation and self-hate goes round and round.

Lust and temptation is like an itch.  The more you have scratched it in the past, the harder it is to leave it alone this time.  You can do the right thing, looking away ten times.  But that one eleventh time you look, and it feels like the castle of sand crumbles.

So that one time when you feed the dog, you give-in to the "pull" and saddle up alongside the hunger, leering and inhaling some exciting female visual stimuli.....   It's like scratching an itch.  It feels great at the time, but it's oh-so short lived!  You end up feeling much worse and you're much more likely to get infected (sexual sin) and it's a very real possibility that infection will remain untreated and ultimately lead to gruesome gangrene, which bluntly put means horrible smelly rotten flesh.  Like a crack addict ruining all their veins and robbing their family members to feed the habit, a lust addict can't amputate the part of them which is infected.

Weird how I'm often surprised that I expect it to "hurt" or somehow feel negative when I choose to look away and not breathe in a female sexy form.  I think, 'now that wasn't bad at all, missing out on that!  Whereas when I do look, I hardly notice the enjoyment, but it revs up that engine that has nowhere to go.

Itchy & Scratchy on a bicycle

The cycle of lust, temptation, masturbation and self-hate goes round and round.

Lust and temptation is like an itch.  The more you have scratched it in the past, the harder it is to leave it alone this time.  You can do the right thing, looking away ten times.  But that one eleventh time you look, and it feels like the castle of sand crumbles.

So that one time when you feed the dog, you give-in to the "pull" and saddle up alongside the hunger, leering and inhaling some exciting female visual stimuli.....   It's like scratching an itch.  It feels great at the time, but it's oh-so short lived!  You end up feeling much worse and you're much more likely to get infected (sexual sin) and it's a very real possibility that infection will remain untreated and ultimately lead to gruesome gangrene, which bluntly put means horrible smelly rotten flesh.  Like a crack addict ruining all their veins and robbing their family members to feed the habit, a lust addict can't amputate the part of them which is infected.

Weird how I'm often surprised that I expect it to "hurt" or somehow feel negative when I choose to look away and not breathe in a female sexy form.  I think, 'now that wasn't bad at all, missing out on that!  Whereas when I do look, I hardly notice the enjoyment, but it revs up that engine that has nowhere to go.

Different Blues

Usually I write here when I'm angry because she didn't want to give me sex.

This time I'm in a mood because I've decided to not have sex.  My same buttons are pushed:

I've not had an orgasm
it looks like she doesn't 'want' me, or at least she doesn't want me right now, which means not always!

I have been reminded by my Bride herself (and Mr. Gungor) how I should "woo" her, let her know she's desired, romance her.  With porn we fantasize about he being 'ready' with no preparation, no work, no effort.  Of course that's not real life. 

Once recently I was in a mood and she fought against all the instincts to steer clear of me.  Instead she invited me upstairs---to bed!  We talked and I felt the mood lifting just because she was willing.  I found myself (impusively) saying, let's do this later, when I saw that people were just outside our window and she wouldn't be able to enjoy it really.  That was good that she saw that I can get out of my funk without actually getting an orgasm.  For me I think it was that I knew I could.  I had the power and wasn't in the dark of that it could happen.  That means the orgasm isn't the only way to get relief.  Knowing I could have an orgasm worked--so much that I said, 'no thank you' to the all important orgasm!

Back to now.  I've said let's go to sleep and not make love, for thre nights in a row.  But I feel in a funk today like I always do when she says no.  Last night I knew that I was tired, that we were unlikely to connect emotionally, and I imagined her just going through the motions and giving to me but not enjoying it herself.  That didn't seem appealing.  I'm now hornier than ever but must get out of this funk so we stand a chance for it to be right or at least not bad.  I feel like my equilibrium has been lost and I'll be able to be myself after the orgasm.  But the chicken and egg thing is that she needs me to be myself so we can enjoy good lovemaking.

The Great Counselor

Cycling to work this morning, I am glad my podcast finished and I didn't bother finding something else to pipe into my earholes.

Because I had a little conversation with myself.  It's not my crazy, really.

MyQuestion:  So what are you angry about?
Me: something about how I want sex every night, and I'm angry as I am expecting tonight to be the second night in a row with her either not willing to give sex, or at least not wanting to.

I went ahead and let some of my anger out, though I had to "give myself permission" because my first thought was that my feelings were "wrong" (no emotions are really wrong).  My expectations are based on my bogus habits and unrealistic expectations from fantasies coming to the forefront of my world.  There's no point blaming myself, or anyone else.  It just is what it is.  It's not easy or fun to change these things.  They are changed slowly and with difficulty. How, exactly?  Escaping from facing pain is how this all started, so it's gonna be painful seeing change & healing.  How does it look, one way is through these "conversations" and these new experiences and perspectives on the old emotions. 

MyQuestion: So, you say it's not fair.  Fine.  That's cool.  I hear you.  Another question:  Is it fair for her to have a life, to use her energy on things other than making love to you?  Is it fair for her to not to expect to do it, to even want to do it--every night?

Me: Hmmm. Of course, putting myself in her place is very helpful.  Sometimes healing comes to the spaces between the anger and the pain.  It's a delayed reaction that you only notice when looking back over time.  Not the epiphany or eureka moment or rocket launch, or explosion.  More a slow burn, more paint drying, the tide going out, or a scab healing.

It is worth listening to the conversation and asking, "Is this a voice like Fathers' or a trusted wise caring counselor who loves me and believes in me?  Is this that voice of judgement, blame and accusation expecting perfection?   Embrace His voice and tell the other one where to go.

Better than Usual

Last night she was tired.  I wasn't "up" enough to try to see the funny side or rise above it easily.  I started touching her, she eventually started hugging back.  I wanted to make love (of course).  She hadn't the night before, so she was less keen to say no tonight.  But she still obviously wanted to sleep instead of be affectionate.  She's not my fantasy.  She's not always gagging for it.  She's a real woman, not a porn fantasy.  But she's mine.

I made one of those impulsive decisions and asked her if she wants to go to sleep, as she looked too tired.  She said "sure". (then said something nice like how much she enjoyed that last few minutes hugging).  My emotions had already skyrocketed, immediately after she said "sure".  It seemed almost like someone else had suggested this idea, which now seemed crazy.  Mostly I was feeling very angry and plenty hurt.  How could she be so flippant (as if rolling over and going to sleep was a huge thing, painful and abnormal).  What was true is that I might be facing a sleepless night. Damn!

I tried to let some of these feelings out, but I was concerned that I was doing it specifically to let her know how much I didn't like her response.  I tried to "cry" but silently.  I thought about how I don't want sleep to only come with lovemaking.  I very much wanted to not face another sleepless night either.

My mind started to spin through thoughts, not just negative stuff about sex, but other things, good things.  But things that have kept me awake lately.

Fortunately, after 20 minutes or so I fell asleep. That's great.   That's better than usual.  So nice that I'm not exhausted and obsessed and so tired I can hardly function--only counting down the hours until bedtime again--both for sleep and sex as my only thoughts.  Thank you Lord.  As often (if not always) the next morning I felt very strong resentment toward her.  "How could she?" "What about me?"  All these thoughts as if sex was a right, a need, something I can't live without.

My challenge now is to not show my annoyance toward her, to let go or cover it up.  She's not my fantasy.  She's not always gagging for it.  She's a real woman, not a porn fantasy.  But she's mine.  Thanks Father.  No point dwelling on the "i wish" thoughts.  Feel them, process them (write about them) then try to let them go and try to move on.  Please help, Father. 

Internal Monologue Improving

So I'm still disappointed and angry that I am not in control, can't get what I want when I want it.

The circumstances are worse, thanks to her menopause and related reduced interest in sex.  At the same time I'm less able to get turned on just by the visual stimulation.  Is it from my stumble into porn recently?  Is it her weight gain (also related to menopause)?  Either way, instead of feeling like less a man by not being able to "perform" (or by not being able to "finish" and find my physical satisfaction), instead I'm letting go and accepting that we won't be doing it as often.  It's great to have a better perspective.  But after a few nights of no sex and not very good sleep, I'm not in a very good place today.  Still, that's just emotions.  Remember to stay pointing into them, like a ship into a storm.  It's counter-intuitive, but remember that these feelings will pass quicker if I stick with 'em.

Sometimes I'm impressed with myself and thankful for the new found freedom, or at least ease.  But it's not that easy or that consistent.

My inner monologue, self-talk is better.  I hear myself saying, "don't expect her to do everything (like in porn).  Of course she's not likely to make love tonight, not if you stay in your crappy mood and childish sulk!

I'm very aware of thin females and womanly curves, but I know that real satisfaction doesn't come from the visual aspect but the spiritual or at least emotional connection.  What I enjoy most is her being turned on and satisfied.  I can't create that by pursuing the signs of passion like spontaneity.  I used to think that if she agreed to make love at a different time or place, or wearing something sexy, then that would either bring or show real passion.  But that's a symptom of passion, not the cause of it.   Besides it's a bit Hollywood/fantasy, not what we find in our real life relationship.   Better to forget about those external things and go for the heart of the matter: connection.  Real emotional connection.  Honesty, vulnerability, real listening, real caring.  Those things that she responds to are more wholesome and worthwhile in the long run, and they are what really turns her on as well.

Temple

He holds the earth in His hands, just as easily as He does our galaxy, and the universe--balanced on His fingertip.  He invented mathematics and science and matter and all the dimensions of existence--not just those we know.  He designed your opposing thumb, your veins and blood  (cleaning and clotting and even warning through the choice of the colour of red).  He sculpted you to have joy and melancholy and awe and anger too.  He crafted us to need each other, to enjoy Him and this mysterious life.


And He created a special temple as a place to gather round and say, "wow!" about all this.   This temple is the crowning glory of all His creations, it's His favourite hangout, with more of Himself invested here than anywhere else or any other thing He's made.  It's not just been sculpted from dirt or clay, not only has it been breathed with the Life from His lungs.  It's not just living flesh and blood, it's so much more.  You are His ever loving child with His mannerisms, infused with his potential for hope and trust and love!

He chose to reside and rest in you.  You are allowed to feel honoured and humbled.  It's audacious, but go ahead and believe it.  He didn't choose you because you performed well or because you added to your value. On the contrary, He brought value to you by choosing you.  Your value comes from Him, your value is not what drew Him to you.  He made His home with you, near you, actually within you.  He knows what He's doing.  He chose well. You needn't worry about your lack of value separate from Him, because He will never leave you.  He's not a shirt you can take off and toss away.  He is in your DNA, in your bones and in your cells like your fathers eyes are in your body and how you effortlessly carry your mothers' smile in your mannerisms.

Genesis 1:1-25
John 1:3
Collosians 1:16
1 Corinthians 10:26
Acts 17:24
Paslm 24:1-2
1 Corinthians 3:16 
Genesis 1:27
Paslm 139:14
Genesis 1:27
1 Corinthians 6:19
Ephesians 2:8-9
Romans 11:6

Bouncing My Eyes

Quick Google Search for the title of this entry shows lots of good thoughts and honesty about it.  It's helpful to be reminded of being diligent and it's encouraging to read others perspectives and be reminded that you are not alone in having to do this work, failing, trying again, and so on.

I have noticed that I have a very strong lure and draw to look, but when I've managed to not look, just recently, sometimes I've thought, "now that didn't hurt".  That's good to realize.  It's worthwhile to evaluate whether I feel robbed, whether it's painful to miss a dose of stimulation.  Although I want to lap up the imagery, it's good to realize that it doesn't actually hurt to give it a miss.  As Mark Gungor says, "you won't die".  Of course this is obvious, but after so many years of no filter and indulging in looking, it becomes automatic.  It helps me to remind myself that all it really does is distract me from better and more important things in my life, while revving up an engine that I don't really want to fuel because it drives me to lust and porn and masturbation.

Saying no to the visual stimulus means you're not taking steps down the road of "acting out".  I guess the word is trigger.  There's certain females at my work who I try to avoid watching as they walk, etc.  Those a kinds of visual stimulus are maybe more like straws than triggers.  No idea which combination of straws will "break the camels back" or trigger acting out.

Considering the fact that I don't need to look at that sexy shape helps strengthen the truth that I can live without the orgasm as an escape, the porn as pleasure to numb pain.  For a while now I've noticed myself noticing breasts and bottoms and thought, "It's not fair that I need to reprogram myself and do without this stimulation!".  That's good, good at least that I'm being honest about my feelings.  The old childish, "It's not fair!  I dont' like it!" stuff I've gone through before. Better to feel/pray that than not even be aware of my feelings.  Better to be feeling them and angry than they stay buried and pop out in other ways.

So sometimes I think, "I averted my eyes and that didn't hurt, I don't feel any worse for it".  Other times I am aware of how deep and how ingrained my automatic leering is!  Sigh.

Perspective

I'm loosing control   that sounds dramatic.  I'm loosing the semblance of control.  Maybe i just don't like the way things are going. 

These days when things change, it bothers me.  My job, my workplace, my career.  Big shocker: things never stay the same.  Bigger Shocker:  the world doesn't revolve around me.  It's really not all about me.  This isn't a movie with me in the starring role. 

One of the things that I cite as key to me becoming a Christian is the hope of having my own family where there isn't this heavy anger lit cloud hovering in the home.  Ironically, sadly, that's exactly what i do sometimes.  God, i guess i should ask u about this instead of assuming. I don't just want this for me. I want it for my family.  I'll follow you Jesus, and I'll keep on "letting you in" Father, regardless of what you do for me.  No matter what I do or don't get out of it. You are worth anything I can give.  I don't need to worry about what I'll get from it.  When I think about it, I know, of course, that you'll give me what I need, more than I can dream of, and it the right time.

My job might change or end, but that doesn't change who I am.  But I have skills and talents that I want to use and develop.  

Greener Grass




I remember being really annoyed and angry at my kids primary-school assemblies (equivalent to US grade-school production).  I had pride, joy at seeing my kid, the cuteness of all the little ones, the surprise of how much they've grown and how quickly they're growing up.

But I was angry.  I was horny and sex obsessed and upset that I left work and went back again without any "action".  Maybe I was jealous that the attention was not on me.  But most of all I was struck at how seeing rows of parents sitting in these little plastic kid-sized school chairs was so far away from a fantasy.  We weren't particularly attractive.  We weren't sexy.  We were ordinary.  We were 'just' parents.

Now I am in the next stage of life, and still seeing how it isn't a fantasy and it isn't hollywood.  I was invited to a friend's fiftieth birthday party.  That's fine, but looking around, so many people at the party were not attractive, not sexy;   They're often grandparents!  The focus of folks lives aren't about the hope of their future possibilities.   They aren't looking at their whole lives ahead of them.  They're middle aged.  I am too.  The ideal imaginary person I'd enjoy connecting with, maybe flirting with, would be a daughter of someone my own age.  Creepy!